


The Tales and Trials of Nyrissa

by SmashingSkunk53



Category: Pathfinder: Kingmaker (Video Game)
Genre: F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-21
Updated: 2020-08-30
Packaged: 2021-03-04 00:20:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 11,141
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24834475
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SmashingSkunk53/pseuds/SmashingSkunk53
Summary: The curse upon her was undone, and now she was faced with a life without the need to destroy. Her Spring returned both her heart and her dream. What better way to repay him then to make this kingdom the greatest the Stolen Lands has ever seen?A Kingmaker Collection
Relationships: The baron/Nyrissa
Kudos: 11





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Just finished Kingmaker after owning it for 2 years. After restarting a couple times and getting sick of it, took a break and came back and finally enjoyed it. Just got frustrated at a few portions of the early parts of the games. Anyway,
> 
> I'm a sucker for story arc's like Nyrissa, especially when good ol' fashion love is the answer. Now because the ending kinda *spoilers* It states that both the king and Nyrissa blend the chaotic beauty of the First World with the order of the Material Plain. Whole lotta playing room there for the fiction muscles to stretch.
> 
> Anyway this story will be a bunch of one-shot chapters of Nyrissa and the King's life post-game. Five chapters, give or take.

Nyrissa set out from the capital of the stolen lands, not with the **Dimensional Door** that she's used for centuries, but with the wind beneath her wings. A sensation she had forgotten over the millennia, forgone because she thought it impractical and a waste of her limited time.

She gasped in surprise as an updraft blew her higher in the air, ground beneath her growing smaller, and the horizon widening evermore as she fully grasped the sheer size of the stolen lands beneath the nymph. Nyrissa loudly laughed as she twirled in the air embracing the moment of joy and splendour that she could feel once more, all because of her beloved Spring.

Gliding through the air, she recalled the conversation she had with the king before she left on her newly self-appointed task.

 _Tristen bowed before the king, though he struggled to return to his feet. He stood back up with a rather long list in hand. "Good morning your Highness," He greeted cordially, but you could see the frustration he wore upon himself. His shoulders slumped forward as if he wanted to pull his hood low enough to block out the light of the room for a quick nap of his feet. "With the boundaries between the Material Plane and the First World finally settled_ _around the Kingdom, a whole new set of problems now face the kingdom."_

_Her Spring groaned as he fell backward in his throne. His hand clasped around his face. Nyrissa knew that her Spring still needed his rest after the battle with The Lantern King, and who else in this world had as much experience in the First World as herself?_

" _Pardon me, my Spr-I mean my King," Nyrissa spoke up and drew the attention of the entire court of the castle. "Please let me deal with this. No one knows the First World better than I, and most of the fey will listen to me if there are any problems with your subjects." She moved forward to join Tristen at the forefront of the throne._

_The former deva, who once cowered in fear at her presence in her old life, lifted his head toward her as his voice took on warmth and excitement. "That would be a great idea, Nyrissa would be the best choice to solve your peoples' problems with the First World's influence."_

_The king looked rather intrigued but hesitant. The nymph could see his mind working behind his eyes, his desire to changes to his kingdom with his own eyes. A quality that she always enjoyed in the mortals of the Material Plane, but her Spring always seemed to carry his pip in his step, and a smirk on his face, a beautiful sight on such aristocratic features. She watched him as he struggled to sit upon his throne to give a proper answer, his fingers gripped tightly to the arms of the throne. He was in no condition for this adventure._

" _I beg of you, my King, please allow me to do this for you." Nyrissa met his eyes. "In the short time that you have returned me to my true self, I have yet to leave your city. I have seen your kingdom, but I need to truly see it with love in my heart and passion in my soul."_

_After a moment of silence, the king nodded in agreement._

The Shrike Hills soon gave way to the dense woods of the Narlmarches. Nyrissa could see village just within the treeline. She has spent centuries planting seeds of distrust, betrayal and terror among the people who dared to settle these lands. Now the time has come for her to start her atonement.

Satyrs, nymphs and other fae practically overran the small village, while some of the villagers were finding the visitors both mesmerizing and entertaining. However, they were getting a little out of control; mortals of the Material Plane do not need walking furniture.

"Attention, everyone!" She called out, "My name is Nyrissa and I am here on behalf of the King, and I want to tell you stories of a village in the South Narlmarches, where both mortal and fae lived together and had the silliest of festivals-"

A fish leapt out of the water of Lake Silverstep; its tail slapped against the water's surface before it disappeared into the depths. The fisherman and Nyrissa watched from the shore, stunned. It was quite a sight to behold, especially when the fish was over 20-feet long.

"I-I see." Nyrissa was certainly surprised. "We will need bigger fishing boats."

A dozen bluettes roam the Dunsward plains, and the locals were surprised about how docile the monsters were. Not a single report of halflings, gnomes or dwarves going missing in the fields. Nyrissa could not help but wonder if these bluettes were the first ones created by the gods before the change to the predatory land creatures feared by the smaller races of Golarion.

Perhaps there was a way the people could benefit from this? Nyrissa examined the creatures rather closely with a couple ranchers.

Months later, the Stolen Lands became the sole provider across the world of Golarion of the Blue Milk.

Nyrissa returned to the capital, not by flight, but by teleportation circle. The moon was at its zenith, and the noise of the city had grown silent in the midnight hour. She welcomed that peace after her extended trip. Each time the nymph solved one issue, two more popped up. A single week of travel turned into a month. It was rather exhausting.

At the same time, she felt proud of what she accomplished. She was living the dream that she wanted for so long. She dreamed of a kingdom within the First World, where her will could shape the reality around her. On the Mortal Plane, however, Nyrissa could finally see the true challenges that face a kingdom.

She entered the throne room of the castle, the torches were unlit, but Nyrissa was far too tired to notice. A snap of fingers rang through the hall. The torches were lit aflame at once; the king himself stood at the rear of the room. On his left was his throne. On his right was something else covered with a sheet. After a month of staying in the capital, her Spring carried himself with more vibrance then she had ever seen him. His skin had its colour back and his eyes carried the mirth that she missed every morning. His arms wide as he waited for her.

Her exhaustion forgotten, Nyrissa embraced her lover. His slim arms slid beneath her wings behind her back as he held her close. The beating of her heart matched his own; the rhythm between them brought peace to her mind and body. How can such a simple thing bring such peace to her soul?

When her Spring pulled away, he was giddy with excitement. He had a gift for her. The people and the fae across the kingdom were pleased for what she did for them, not to mention when she continued to take care of the rising problems. Her Spring had conspired with Evindra, and they made a gift for her.

With a flourish, the king pulled the sheet away to reveal a throne. Nyrissa placed her hand upon the wood. It was smooth to the touch, a sycamore. Its limbs had grown and twirled into chair, and her sister's doing no doubt. She could feel its fledging roots only a couple feet deep into the soil, but she felt dirt was not just a potted plant within the castle, but the hole was dug right into the ground beneath the castle itself. The nymph could only imagine the future where its roots would spread.

In the time before her curse, Nyrissa dreamed of such a throne, no doubt her sister remembered those talks from long ago. It was everything she ever wanted, but-

Her hand lifted away from the throne, buds of green leaves sprouted from where it was touched. "My Spring," She started, the nymph's words felt choked within her throat. "There are no words to describe how happy this gift makes me." She gave him a chaste, but loving kiss against his lips. "But I cannot accept this. Not yet."

He spoke to her softly, he understood her hesitance, but at the same time, he said that even though she had suffered as a fae, she needs to embrace small things in life as well. To think of it not as a throne to the kingdom, but just a fancy chair at his side as he governed the land.

Nyrissa smiled. She has a long road of atonement ahead of her, but to feel the warmth of her Spring's each day as she worked to repent against all she wronged, she would certainly seat in a fancy chair.


	2. The Songs of The People

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Freedom of Speech is a double-edged sword. Nyrissa found herself ridiculed by the common people and the bard that lead them. PErhaps she can find someone to take her mind of things?

_The fae that smells of spring,_

_With a twirl of her wings_

_He clings with an ever-loving zing._

_She plays with the strings of the beloved king_

The songs from the bard academy have certainly soured her mood of late. They have found a new muse in the relationship the nymph shared with her Spring. It was a downside to her becoming a common sight with the king. She was tempted to **Silence** him, but Nyrissa could not fight the _River Freedoms_ , at least not openly. The skies rumbled with thunder as Nyrissa refused to give to believe the seductive voice in her head, saying that she was the cause of the enduring storm affecting the capital.

_She was acting so coy,_

_No one saw the clever ploy._

_Until it was too late,_

_The fae had a date_

_The king was enamoured,_

_All suitors forever spurred._

The newest graduate of Pitax’s Bard College was performing for some diplomats his latest ballad to showcase the artistic “freedom” of the Stolen Lands. The king’s dislike for politically heavy-handed rules, Nyrissa agreed with her Spring’s choice to allow such freedom. Songs that regularly sing about the greatness of ruler and country do tend to get tedious and boring.

Nyrissa left the court to its own devices. The rain fell upon her skin the moment she stepped outside, while many of the citizens hid away from the cold shower sprinkling across the city, Nyrissa basked in it, and the rumbling thunder was a pleasurable beat in her ears. She strode through the market, where many people seem to share her joy for the rain.

Except for one, however.

A child, perhaps no older than 11 or 12, waited under the stall of a vegetable vendor as she watched the skies with trepidation. The thunder could be somewhat daunting to children. She never saw Nyrissa come up right next to her. “Do you not like the rain, little one?” The nymph asked, only as she stifled a chuckle behind her hand as the child jumped in surprise, nearly tipped over the basket of vegetables next to her feet. She looked up at Nyrissa, eyes wide and mouth fluttered open and close. Nyrissa smiled down at her. “Or is it the thunder that scares you?”

The child immediately shook her head negatively but did not say a word. She looked up to Nyrissa without suspicion of caution, which she has seen others, though she still did not talk. It was a bit awkward between them before Nyrissa remembered the lessons that mortals teach their young.

“Oh, where are my manners,” The nymph leaned down toward the girl and held out her hand. “My name is Nyrissa, and it’s a pleasure to meet you, may I have your name little one?”

The girl looked at Nyrissa’s outstretched hand with trepidation. The farmer behind the stall spoke up, “Lady Nyrissa is one of the most important people in the kingdom Rag’na. Think of her as an extra special city guard.”

The little girl smiled, and she shook Nyrissa’s hand with a surprising amount of strength.

<><><>

On the walk back to the orphanage, the little half-orc regaled her with all sorts of tales. Matron of the orphanage used to always take her along for the daily shopping trip to the market. Since most of the children caught the flu over the past week, the Matron did not want to leave them unattended in case of the worse.

“So, I told Matron Fert that _**I**_ can pick up the vegetables all by myself!” Rag’na exclaimed as she puffed out her chest with pride, “I’ve been going with him all week, so I knew exactly where Mr. Barly’s stall is in the marketplace.”

Nyrissa nodded bemusedly. “You seemed a little wary of the rain, were you afraid of getting _wet_ during your task Rag’na?” The fae teased with a cheeky tone.

Rag’na seemed a little sheepish as if to hide underneath Nyrissa’s wings that sheltered her from the rainfall. “I’m not scared of water!” She pointed out proudly, her tusks jutted outward. “But I know Matron Fert doesn’t like wet vegetables.” Rag’na’s face scrunched up in thought, “They should only be washed before you cook’em, or they’ll go bad quicker.” She recalled.

“I heard the cook saying the same things at the castle.” Nyrissa agreed. “Are you going to help him cook when you get back to the orphanage?” Rag’na nodded, “Yep! Me and Devlin are going to peel all the vegetables. Though we are still too small to do anything with the stove.”

The Matron already sounded overworked, dealing with the sick children. Perhaps this would be an exciting way to spend her day?

A group of peasants watched her walking by; they stilled and immediately whispered amongst themselves. Nyrissa only picked up the words “devious trickery.” She had almost forgotten why she left the court today in the company of Rag’na. “Do you think Matron Fert would mind if I offered to help?” 

“You can cook Miss Nyrissa?” She asked innocently.

The question took Nyrissa back. She has never cooked anything in her life, but she certainly did not want to go back to the castle now. “N-no.” She stuttered, “But maybe I can help your matron with tending to other children.” She might not know any healing magic, but her mind was already going over herbs and plants that could help with the flu. A small corner in the dark recesses of her mind spoke of how these same herbs could be used for poison with jealous advisors vying for the throne.

Rag’na nodded, “That would be nice of you, Miss Nyrissa.” Her face then lit up as the orphanage came into view. “We’re HERE!” The little half-orc ignored the final sputters of rain as she ran for the door. She practically slid to a stop in front of the door. She tenderly opened the door, “We have to be very quiet,” Rag’na whispered. “A lot of the babies sleep most of the day.” She softly walked through the door, and Nyrissa after her, floating just above the ground.

“What is that sme-” They soon enter the next room where a human male was slowly rocking a blue bundle in his arms. He turned around to look, “Rag’na-” He started only to be flat-footed as Nyrissa floated into the room behind her. “Milady,” He said in awe, he was about bow before Nyrissa lightly grabbed hold of his arm.

“No one needs to bow to me, especially one as caring as you, dear Matron.” Nyrissa consoled him. “My new friend Rag’na has told all the wonderful things that you do.” In the corner of her eye, the nymph could see the half-orc stand a little straighter she held the grocery basket in her hands. “Much like a wind passing through a meadow, I am quite free today. Can I help you and your staff with the little ones?” She questioned.

<><><>

_A week later,_

Despite her Spring’s assurances, the songs of bards still grated upon her patience. The children at the orphanage were a welcome respite. Nyrissa thought they would be a little nervous around her, stories about fae stealing and eating children are not untrue, but they still welcomed her. Such openness from children, she had to ask the Matron Fert about it.

He smiled softly. “That’s all because of Lady Kalikke.” Fert grimaced in remembrance. “A couple of men came around the orphanage and started spinning tales of how tieflings sacrifice orphaned children for dreadful rituals.” He said disdainfully.

That certainly threw Nyrissa for a loop. “But the king is a tiefling.”

The Matron nodded, “Exactly, but it doesn’t matter to them.” He sighed. “Those three were always troublemakers, even said that Rag’na should go fend for herself out in the wilds so that she doesn’t beat on the other children.”

Nyrissa found that to be completely ridiculous. She has never seen a nine-year-old so considerate of size, Rag’na is the tenderest child she has ever seen. “And I suppose according to them, the king wears my collar around his neck.” The nymph turned away from the Matron as she focused intently on folding the laundry, scandalous thoughts crossed her mind. They got their information backwards; Her Spring keeps her collar hidden somewhere in the throne room. She has until Moonday night to find it, or else she would be _punished_.

Unsuspecting of the lustful memories recycling in Nyrissa’s mind, Matron Fert broke through her joyful recollection. “Lady Nyrissa, I appreciate you helping out here at the orphanage.” He limped his way over to a makeshift chair. “There are only a few of us, and a lot of children, many of them are far too young and need a lot of supervision.” He collapsed into a heap as he sat down, a burden left his shoulders as he visibly relaxed.

“I’m surprised you have not appealed to the Regent or the High Councilor for more staff,” Nyrissa questioned. “The king has been very vocal about his support for the orphanage.”

Matron Fert looked rather sheepish. “There is no need for that Lady Nyrissa.” He rubbed the back of his neck, an attempt to soothe away the ache in his muscles. “In a year or two, most of these children will be old enough to watch themselves-“

Thunderous knocks against wood came from the entrance. The Matron looked visibly surprised, “Now who could that be?” He moved to get up from the chair, but Nyrissa stopped him. “Allow me, Matron.” She said.

When she opened the door, it was the last person she wanted to see, but his current state of dress made this encounter well worth it. The bard who has been singing that unpleasant ballad. His fancy clothes smeared and splotched with a variety of stains, juices, and who knows what else. It brought a smile to her face; she did not bother to hide it. “Why hello there-“ Nyrissa cooed, “Do you have any business with the orphanage?”

The bard’s face was flushed red with anger, or perhaps it was half a smooshed tomato. “You!” He sneered. “You’re the one that rallied those little monsters against me.” He ranted and raved about the children who have started to annoy him the moment he started singing his infamous ballad. Bits and pieces of vegetables flew off him as they shouted about how the orphanage kids rallied the crowd against him for saying bad things about Ms. Nyrissa. A satisfying _splat_ from an oddly coloured potato interrupted his tirade. 

“Now, now, little songbird, have you forgotten the _River Freedoms_?” She loomed over the bard, who immediately quieted as the full presence of the powerful fae bore down upon him. “Say What You Will, I Live Free.” Nyrissa stepped back from the stunned bard. “Perhaps it’s time to come up with a different ballad?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N
> 
> Took me a hot sec to figure out how to make Nyrissa interact with the public, wanted to use Knod Kraven making her uncomfortable at the castle, but after I came upon the idea of the bard, it took a day or two before I remembered the River Freedoms.   
> I also kept bouncing back about characters within the orphanage. Wanted to make Fert a halfling, and Rag’na an elf, but just really wanted to get rid all those humans.   
> Now expect the next chapter to be all about fluff.


	3. Magical Temperaments

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The end of the honeymoon phase (pseudo).

On the outside, a castle stood upon the highest hill in the capital of the Stolen Lands. A solitary palace above the cacophony of a bustling city. Some may say the castle was far beyond the average life of the city, which, on the contrary, was false.

Inside the castle, chaos reigned supreme. The building was empty of people, the servants found a good reason to take the day off. They had noticed the smell of singed ozone floated throughout the castle. Small vines whipped around in the halls with ensnared furniture dragged inches back and forth.

Muffled voices could be heard, but they grew louder and clearer closer to the royal bed chambers. Shouts were punctuated with inhuman strength and power. Squalls of wind and rain flew from underneath the door and overturned carpets 20ft down the hall. The door slammed open by a draconic roar, the words lost in anger. Nyrissa stormed into the hallway. Her face a twisted visage of frustration, her hair and wings billowing from the forceful roar.

Bramble and thorns sprouted from the stone behind the fae. Nyrissa ignored the roars of frustration behind her as the foilage grew thicker with each step. A wall of thorns jammed the door open as she made her through the city. Citizens clambered away from her furious expression as she strode toward Tuskwater lake with purpose.

On the shore, dryad paced back and forth, only for her sister to appear in a flourish of watery mist. Evindra watched her warily, “Cousin, are you well?” She asked. The stare the water nymph got in response made her shy away and pulled her shawl tighter to her body. The terrified look in her eyes brought up painful memories for Nyrissa.

Nyrissa tried her best to placate the other nymph, despite her own foul mood. “Sorry, Evindra. It's just-“ She took a deep breath to steady her emotions. “The king can be so frustrating.” The nymph fumed as she curled her hands into fists and growled. “He’s a stubborn, short-sighted, egotistical-Ugh!” She threw her arms in the air in frustration before she descended into a rant.

Evindra waited for Nyrissa to run out of steam and words. Once she struggled to find something to say, she spoke up. “Anything else?” She questioned.

“Not at the moment,” Nyrissa said lowly.

“I’m surprised it took so long for this to finally happen.” Evindra turned away and focused on the distance, where children frolicked in the water. 

The older fae asked the unspoken question, “For what to happen?”

The nereid sighed, then she turned toward the other fae. She clapped her hands together, placed them against her cheek. “Your lovey-dovey life came to an end.” She stated in a cutesy voice. Her face then slacked with a complete lack of empathy. “The honeymoon phase is over.” Evindra shrugged. “Eventually, something would come between you two, and neither of you would just agree with the other and kiss-and-make-up.”

Nyrissa scowled. “Excuse me! There has been plenty of times when we have disagreed with each other before this.”

“Really?” Evindra crossed her arms over her chest and shifted her weight onto her back foot. “Stop me if any of this sounds unfamiliar.“ She paused and lowered her shawl to her shoulders. The nereid whipped her hair out behind her head into the same shape as Nyrissa’s own. “Oh my Spring, we need more cows and chickens to feed the people-” She paused as if in an imaginary conversation. “Let them grow their own vegetables? You are so right, my Spring.” The water nymph cooed only for both her face and hair to fall flat.

Even after millennia, her grumpy cousin continued to live up to her title. Something on Nyrissa’s face must have given her feelings away because the nereid continued to speak. “There were quite a few times when you two certainly sound like that. Sickeningly sweet.” Evindra gagged. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but I’m happy you two finally had a good fight.”

“Why in the world are you happy that we had a fight?” The dryad collapsed onto the ground in frustration. “I am due for misery for my sins against these lands. Can I not at least take solace in the arms of another?” She raked the fingers through the grass along the shore of the lake in thought.

Evindra sighed before she joined Nyrissa on the ground with her feet in the water. “How well do you know his highness?”

Nyrissa started, “I’ve watched his every move for half a decade!”

“Where was he born?” Evindra asked.

The dryad’s mouth fluttered open and close, but Evindra was relentless. “How did he first learn about his magic? Has he always dressed so fancy?” Their eyes remained locked together as the nereid leaned toward her cousin and whispered in a low, sultry voice, “Late nights or early mornings?”

The soundless squawk from Nyrissa was the voice of her indignation.

“I meant when he does prefer to get work done. You succubus in disguise.” She said cheekily. Evindra leaned back and watched the ripples she made in the water. “I am happy to have you back as yourself again, but-“ She placed her hand on Nyrissa’s chest. “Your heart was returned to you, and you have embraced the love that you have nearly forgotten. You have found yourself swept away by a man and a kingdom where all your dreams are waiting to come true, yet you know nothing and everything.”

Evindra let that comment hang in the air between them before continuing. “Your life had become a fairytale. A dashing hero fought against ever-rising odds and broke your curse, and I think **both** of you assumed it would be a happily ever after.” She paused. “But life and people don’t work like that, that goes for mortals and fae as well. You two need to talk and to fight, or else you would never understand each other.”

The wood nymph sighed the anger that simmered in her since the fight started left her as Evindra’s words sunk in. The nereid became her closest confidant because she fought every single one of her ideas. “You are right, I guess we have been caught up in the ideal romance.” Nyrissa gathered her thoughts before she said, “I’m going to take a long walk before I head back to the castle. I need to think of what I want to say without losing my own temper.” Both fae stood up from the shore. “Next time I come to see you though-“ Nyrissa smiled widely. Mirth in her eyes and teasing in her tone, “We are going to talk about your second job.”

At the mention of her job, Evindra groaned. “You help one child, next thing you know, your baby-sitting the lot of them.” The words sounded rude, but Nyrissa could see the happiness in the nereid face.

<><><>

The sun was setting by the time Nyrissa returned to the castle in a much calmer mood than she left it. The brambles and thorns had been removed for the most part. It made the walk through the stone halls different than yesterday. Was it because of how Evindra opened her eyes or the missing singed furniture?

The throne room was empty so that only left one place where Her Spring might be if he was here. She knocked on the door to the royal chambers, and he immediately answered her. Nyrissa opened the door and saw him. He smiled at her warmly, though the wary look in his eyes showed caution that she had not seen before today.

It was time to get to know the more subtle things of each other. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N:  
> Its been a week or two, but here’s the next chapter. I got the next 90% percent done, then I released that it felt off and a little too soon without a fight beforehand. Wanted to skip the whole fight topic, so I leave that up to your imagination.


	4. A Dreamy Romance

_The final kingdom crumbled before her, a millennium of labour finally brought to fruition. There was only one task left, and then she will have the last mote of dust for The Apology. The bodies of peasants littered the ground as beasts devoured them, a premature celebratory feast. The Guardian of The Bloom strode through the devastation unhindered. There was no one to stop her; they have all fallen._

_The Guardian entered the castle as it fell to pieces in her presence. On the crumbling throne sat her hound, King Pelliaos Sorrow. The broken king struggled to stand but collapsed back onto the seat as blood pooled around his feet. He glared at her with such vehemence in his single remaining eye but flinched at her touch._

_“My hound-” She caressed his cheek with cold affection. “Rest now. You have served me well.” His body crumbled to dust, along with his throne. The Apology then appeared before The Guardian, the last mote of dust filled it to the brim of the cup._

_The Material Plane fell away as the First World came to life around her. Applause thundered around her, in equal parts of mockery and praise. In a flourish of flame, The Lantern King appeared before her. **“Well done, trespasser! The essence of a thousand kingdoms lie before you-”** The other Eldest surround The Guardian and the Apology. **“For your crimes against us, you must become what you have sought so long ago. Within the cup lies your greatest desire.”** The words echoed through the world as The Guardian stared into the cup, mist swirled beneath the surface of the liquid. **“To truly atone, you must drink the Apology and become an Eldest yourself.”**_

_The Guardian lifted the cup and placed it at her lips. She drank deeply from the Apology until nothing was left. Pain wracked her body as The Lantern King continued to speak, **“With the pain and suffering of a thousand nations, you will become the Eldest of dust and trampled hope.”** The Guardian fell to her knees, her empty soul overflowed with hopelessness and despair. **“Now, enjoy!”** The Lantern King called out mockingly. **“For this feeling will be with you for the rest of your eternal life!”** Tongues of flame whipped around him as he flew above The Guardian and cackled into the darkness above her kneeling form._

_The world fell away, but she could not stand. Her soul rioted against her as it tore her apart from the inside. Something crawled its way up her throat; her jaw propped open as the remains of the Apology poured from her mouth, the liquid had become gelatinous as it pulled itself into a shape outside of her body._

_She felt tendrils wrapped around her neck, constricting her already limited supply of air. Another shape pulled upwards from the liquid and loomed above her and forced The Guardian to look up as it morphed into the face of Pelliaos. Its face contorted with rage and betrayal before it surged forward to the immobile fae._

Nyrissa jerked awake as she sat up in the bed, she struggled to calm her beating heart. The images of her recurring nightmare lingering in her mind. Peace had become a chasing dream since their fight. It had become the crack in their relationship. Where they once shared everything, they both had become guarded. Her nightmares were simply another issue Nyrissa did not want to share with Her Spring. The woodland nymph refused to be bound by the chains of her past; she wanted to focus on the present. 

She felt the chill of the night creep across her bare shoulders, Nyrissa eyed the fireplace in the waning moonlight. Part of her wanted to relight it for the warmth, but she did not want to awake her partner beside her with such movement. Her Spring had been run ragged lately, and she did not want to further burden him with her problems.

She felt two lean arms encircle her body and froze. It was an intimate movement and it put Nyrissa on guard. Embraces had become rare for them, however his warmth chased away the night chill. Nyrissa melted into Pelliaos’s embrace. The nymph’s worries vanished into nothingness as she basked in his presence. The tension from her abrupt awakening left her body as Nyrissa drifted away from her thoughts of the past and surrendered to slumber.

<><><>

“Now that sounds adorable-and loving-and just-“ Octavia sighed longingly before she sipped the tea in front of her. The setting afternoon sun bathed the magister in a gentle light as she sat across from Nyrissa in the shade. The small table between them with a piping hot tea set.

Nyrissa sighed, “It felt wonderful, but didn’t feel right.” She paused. “If that makes any sense.” The nymph stirred her cup, but she had no desire to drink. “Things between us are…different.” She placed her cup on the table as her emotions came to bear. “I believe that I love him, but what if I am wrong? There are many times when I ask myself, what have I done to deserve him?”

“Well, you have suffered for over millennia because you were missing your heart and soul.” The kingdom’s magister shrugged. “Karma owed you something nice-“ She raised a single eyebrow. “-Or someone.” The half-elf purred.

The fae fought the urge to groan. “But what have I done to show my appreciation?” She questioned with fervour. “My eyes are open to both his faults and my own, but it still feels like something else is missing between us.”

Octavia let that statement hang in the air as she thought it over. “Have you ever courted the king?” She questioned.

That rather threw Nyrissa for a loop. Both herself and Pelliaos did have a rather conventual start to their relationship. Unless you counted the encounters, they shared over the years as she threatened him and his kingdom. “No…no I have not.” She answered distractedly.

The half-elf's eyes lit up in excitement. “Then you must _woo_ him,” Octavia emphasized. “How else can you both show your feelings without taking the other out for a good time. Nothing says appreciation and care, then a good old fashion date. Now-“ She leaned forward and locked her fingers together, “What are you going to do?”

The nymph pondered the question. What could she do? She has seduced people in the past, but Nyrissa felt lost. “I do not know. What do you do on a date?”

“That all depends on the people involved,” Octavia said. “What works for Reg and I, would not work for Ekundayo and Elina.” The magister tapped her chin in thought. “Now what would be the perfect date for you two?” She placed her hands on the table and pushed her tea to the side as she focused completely on Nyrissa. “Now I know this is mostly for him instead of you, but what do you two enjoy?”

The woodland nymph thought back to all the times when she and Pelliaos enjoyed their time together. “We both enjoy the peace of nature, though there are times when the insects tend to bother him.”

“I completely agree! He always seemed to be in good spirits when we travelled, but the bogs in the Naarlmarches seemed to put him on edge. Then there were those centipedes underneath the Old Sycamore.” The magister nodded. “Both him and Reg went a bit nuts with lightning down in those tunnels.”

Now Nyrissa was getting into it. “While the heavens rumble with fury, he finds solace and reassurance with the sparks in the sky.” She waxed poetically.

Octavia ignored the impromptu poeticism. “His highness certainly has an extra pep in his step after a storm.” She paused. “But we are getting off-topic, that’s all _physical_ stuff-unless you want to tell me what you two get up to behind closed doors?” The magister waved off the question. “Never mind, I can always ask the king later.” Octavia affirmed, then she blinked. “You are going to need sweet wine.”

“Sweet wine?” Nyrissa asked herself. She knew Pelliaos liked his wine, but he is rather picky. He does have a big sweet tooth. She continued the thought aloud, “Kanerah probably has a good idea of what would be nice bottle for him.”

Octavia clapped her hands together with a big smile on her face. “Now you’re getting it!” She cried out. “What else are you thinking?”

The fae woman took a deep drink of her tea as she mulled her thoughts. All this talk of sweets reminded her of a reclusive fae tribe in the First World. Perhaps with the right incentive, she could create a spectacular date. She needed time. The woodland nymph spoke up, “Do you think Lady Valerie would mind watching the capital for a day or two?”

“I’m sure between the two of us, Valerie would lose her mind if she wasn’t put in charge.” Octavia leaned back in her chair and laughed.

<><><>

Nyrissa waited at the Bald Hilltop for King Pellaios to arrive, with her was a large crate on the ground and a small picnic basket in her arms. It took a while to fill the box up with the best trade goods, but the castle cooks were more than happy to help her with this date. Once Octavia smelt what was being baked in the kitchens, she decided to give a little more “help” to the nymph as well.

Her free hand fidgeted with the hem of a recently required dress, the extra bit of “help” from the mage. Her natural state of dress as a nymph certainly gave her favour, but clothes give anyone a sense of something more. They found the dress at the tailor, a slightly risque one considering they set-up shop next to a brothel. Nyrissa adored the colour, Octavia loved the cut of it. Both of their eyes’ were drawn to the deep cut in the dress. The fae woman felt rather silly trying it on in the store, as some of the other shoppers were scandalized by looking at it.

She knew the pale yellow dress accentuated her figure well; it hung off her shoulders and clung to her hips. While the deep v-cut in both the back and front allowed room for her wings and in the words of Octavia, _“It made her girls pop.”_ Nyrissa still struggled with this idea. How much can clothes really change a person?

Pelliaos came into her sight as he walked up the hill and Nyrissa felt her heart beat a little faster as her previous thought was proven rather mote. No formal robes or cape around his shoulders. She has never seen the tiefling man dress so casually with a light brown tunic that seemed to bare his chest to the world. Nyrissa drank in the sight of the lean, wiry muscle of his chest within the open tunic. He stopped right in front of her in silence. She looked up to meet his eyes, only to see Her Spring drinking in her own figure as well. She thought that Pelliaos had lost interest in her, despite the comfort and care that he has given her. The look in his eyes is certainly beyond support and care. Nyrissa coughed into her hand and broke his trance.

He apologized for his state of dress Regongar had a spurt of unexpected magic, and destroyed his wardrobe. The flat look Pelliaos gave the nymph showcased his disbelief about why his clothes were damaged. Luckily, the half-orc had some old clothes that could fit him. His eyes roved over Nyrissa’s body as he complimented her. In her younger years, she remembered the lesser-known fae obsessed with clothing of the Material World. It is now completely understandable.

To see the want in another’s eyes, entirely from physical attraction. It was a new feeling that Nyrissa would want to chase more later. At this moment, however, they had a date to start. “My apologies, Pelliaos, but we have a place to be.” With a wave of her hand, a portal split open in the air in the center of the standing stones. Nyrissa hooked the picnic basket on the crook of her arm and offered the other to the king. “Shall we, my Spring?”

Together they stepped through the portal and into the First World. Nyrissa led her love to a grassy field; towering black trees dotted the landscape like lone beacons. Their branches Lightning struck the ground in front of them, and in a flash, a humanoid appeared before them. Their face was androgynous, with soft features that seemed untouched by friction. Light, see-through fabric coiled around their limbs and shifted with the movement of the non-existent wind. “Have you brought them?” He asked.

“You will find a crate full of them just beyond the portal behind us to the Material Plane.” They waited patiently while more fae appeared in bolts of lightning and headed through the portal and immediately came back with the crate. One of them opened the container and looked inside; they then looked toward the leader and nodded. The one that first appeared then continued, “Everything appears in order.” They sniff into the air dismissively. “Enjoy your-” They paused as the if next word was utterly foreign to say. “Date.” With that, they and their companions disappeared.

Remarkably, Pelliaos remained silent through the event. He looked to Nyrissa and raised an eyebrow in question. Nyrissa leaned onto his shoulder, “You know the expression my love?-You scratch my back, and I scratch yours?” She smiled. “You’ll see soon enough, but first we need to find a good place to sit for the show.”

Nyrissa pulled out a blanket from the basket and laid out on the grass. She pulled Pellaios down with her and held him close, despite his own weak resistance. Thunder rumbled in the distance as the nymph pulled out two glasses from the basket along with a bottle of wine. “I’ve brought your favourite.” She uncorked the bottle and poured each of them a drink. The tiefling took the glass and tried to ask what was going to happen, only to be gently rebutted by Nyrissa. “Just give it a moment, the show is about to start.”

Thunder rumbled and drew Pelliaos’s attention to the darkened clouds in the distance. His face lit up in as lighting struck one of the blackened trees. Instead of being destroyed, the lightning arced to another tree, followed by another. The trees drew the ire of the storm, but defied the destructive nature, creating an electrical field. The amazement of such an occurrence was seen upon Pelliaos’s face, and he was mesmerized.

The beauty of the electrical field drew her Spring’s attention, and even Nyrissa felt drawn in because of his infectious fascination. With the bottle of wine between them, Nyrissa and Pellaios basked in the atmosphere. They started apart on either side of the blanket, but Nyrissa watched out of the corner of her eye as he came closer to her. The way he snuck his own glances at her before he slipped his arm around her hip and gently pulled her closer.

Together they watched the lightning as it danced between the bare trees. Nyrissa found the lack of conversation between them a sign that she chose an excellent place for a date. So, instead listening to the whispers of doubt within her mind, she snuggled closer into Pelliaos embrace.

All too soon, the bottle of wine emptied between them, and the rumbling storm clouds began to disperse. “I suppose we should get going as well, the storm nymphs were generous to let us stay for the ritual, and I would rather not overstay our welcome. “ Nyrissa moved to begin packing up, only for Her Spring to gently stop her with a smile as he folded away the blanket into the basket. A little thing, but the woodland nymph appreciated the gesture. Together they walked back through the portal to the Material Plane.

After the magical wonder of the First World, they walk back to the capital from the Bald Hilltop. With the moon rising into the night sky, the two lovers took this time to talk. Pelliaos was certainly more receptive after the lightning show. After their fight before, Nyrissa got a glimpse of the tiefling’s past. A small sliver of silver in an old forgotten forge, found after being forgotten for years. Instead of a little tidbit offered like an olive branch, the fae woman was able to have something more.

They spent months together working for the kingdom, and when they did found time to be alone with one another, it was more physical than anything else. The date certainly helped to loosen Pelliaos up. Questions that she had about her lover were answered with openness and honesty that she had missed since the day he returned her heart. When Her Spring asked the nymph of her past, she did not spiral into a realm of bitterness, if not outright ignoring the question. Instead, she was able to reminisce about the fond memories of her sisters and their adventures throughout the First World.

When they reached the gates of the capital, they proceeded through the city unburdened by the weight of the crown and nation, their entire focus on one another. Nyrissa chuckled under her breath as she listened to a rather daring tale when Pelliaos first learned about the origin of his sorcery. He snorted when she told him about the time she caught her sisters snuck into the private bathhouse of a famous lady knight.

It felt reassuring that there was more to their relationship then the kingdom. The past few weeks have been awkward between them, but she dared not to ever give up on Pelliaos Sorrow. She pulled him closer, as one of her wings draped over the tiefling’s shoulder possessively. Deep in her heart, Nyrissa knew that he was the one for her. She will court him, to prove to herself and him that their love goes beyond the supernatural and into the natural.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N:  
> This one took a while, maybe because this is 95% fantasy. Sad truth: Nearly 30, never been on a date. So...that kinda slowed me down(not the first time doing this sort of chapter, but I still stutter with it.).  
> The dream was definite want for a start, though I wanted to be a bit morbid, and describe the death of the party and council members, but felt a bit too morbid and whole lot of trying to find titles and other ornery work.   
> First off, I wanted a natural conversation where the topic of wooing would come up, and who better to facilitate that then Octavia? Got through it pretty quick, then I toyed with the idea of having the kids at the orphanage helping out, which evolved into having other party members adding their own two cents, but it started to feel more extra filling than anything else.  
> I wanted to wax something philosphical on thunderstorms, but it felt more like I wanted to seem more pompous then what this is actually about.   
> So skip to the date and attire, which after weeks of being happy with a pale yellow dress, I got distracted when I came across a paper the attraction of red between men and women, which brought me to a paper which I personally found unsettling.


	5. This Can Only End Well

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chaotic life choices tend to override common sense.

The king sat on his throne as he tried his best to pay attention as his regent as she droned on and on about the worries of the nobles. Every day he regretted the decision to have _noblesse_. If they weren't complaining about the stench of the goblin dens or the noise of the barbarian arenas, then they got all uppity about schools for the citizenry. Pelliaos slumped in his throne as Valerie continued about the nobles being nervous about a _single_ king.

He was certainly not single thank you very much! His mind drifted back to the morning when he woke up the sight of a green bare body getting out of bed.

_Waking up to see her was a great way to start the day. Then the nymph turned around and it was even better. Nyrissa saw that he was awake and leaned down to kiss him good morning. She had some things to take care of for the day and she wanted to get an early start. The fae promised that she would be back before dinner. With parting farewell, his lover left the royal chambers. Before he rolled back to sleep, one thought crossed his mind with straightforward clarity._

_He loved her._

They had a few rough patches, but it only made them…more…better. The tiefling sighed wistfully as he thought back to the evening they had the night before at the dance hall. He danced with nearly two dozen women, and a few men, until he found her. He had every right to be smug when he picked her out of a crowd. She was the only partner for him.

Why were they not married yet?

Pelliaos immediately stood up from his throne, Valerie stopped mid-announcement. "Is there a problem my liege?" She questioned.

"You make a good point Valerie." Pelliaos spoke proudly.

The knight's face twisted in confusion. "As much as I would enjoy taxing philosophers, Galt wouldn't stand for it and we would probably face some backlash for when their next leader comes to power."

Was that what she was just talking about? He'll deal with it later. "Never mind Valerie. We have more important things to do today."

The regent looked at the scroll of duties in her hands with a great amount of concealed distaste. "What shall I add to today's list of tasks my lord?"

"There will be a wedding at 4pm."

The look of consternation on her face almost made Pelliaos laugh. "Whose wedding did I forget to make note of?" Valerie questioned.

"Mine, of course."

The King of the Stolen Lands has absolutely no regrets about this idea.

With her aides behind her, Valerie strode through the halls with the utmost speed without appearing hurried. Having a wedding out of nowhere was a political nightmare. Why did she allow herself to be regent for this kingdom? Maybe because it was a glorified field when they first arrived years ago. Now she has to help her lord oversee 10 territories across their land that was nearly a two-week ride from border to border. Then he decides to throw this in her lap like a town crier throwing papers. The scroll Pelliaos gave her outlined everything he wanted for the wedding.

How in the bloody hell was she supposed to organize a royal wedding in a single day? These events are meant to take years, if not decades for some races. Yet he had the audacity to ask for a wedding by the end of the afternoon? She could already feel the growing headache from diplomats questioning the urgent ceremony.

_Irovetti's bastards nearly outnumber the guards in Pitax, is King Pelliaos trying to avoid the same fate for his kingdom?_

_Like any kingdom of old, a royal has been ensnared by fae spell. What else could we expect for the Stolen Lands of the River Kingdoms?_

_A tiefling for a king, a fae for a queen and a land literally overrun with First World craziness? Prepare the expeditions to the Stolen Lands!_

Those were problems she had to deal with tommorow, for now she had to deal with a wedding today. Valerie entered the temple and dropped a document in the hands of Jhod Kraven.

Jhod read through the document, while Tristian prayed at Sarenrae's altar. "I don't understand how his highness can expect us to prepare for this!" The Elk priest complained.

"We will try to get everything done." Tristian said.

The cleric's statement threw the human priest for a loop. "How?" He questioned. "When did you complete the required rites for a royal marriage?" He paused, discomfort flittered across his face. "Let alone with that woman-"

Tristian tutted from his spot in front of the altar, interrupting the older human's frequent complaint. "Father Jhod, Nyrissa is no longer the same person she once was because of the king." With a small clap, the cleric stood up and read through the king's requests in Jhod's hands. "Besides," He paused, "despite all your rituals it is the love shared between two people that strengthens the union between them."

Shouts and yells rang out from the streets outside the temple. Troops marched past the window in a disorderly, but casual fashion in ceremonial armour. Seeing the commotion, Tristian headed toward the door. "Now if you excuse me Father, I need to talk to Amiri about the military procession before the ceremony."

The moment he stepped out into the street, the cleric of Sarenrae walked right into an argument between two majors wearing polished breastplates.

The mustached major yelled, "We need to six lines of lances leading the bridal party to the castle!"

"And your blocking the road, two lines of soldiers is enough for a wedding, we need the other four lines to patrol the area in case of wedding crashers!" The bearded major roared back.

Amiri stood between them fuming in frustration, the way her hands twitched reminded Tristian that she did the same thing just before she breaks into a berserker rage. "Pardon me Amiri," Tristian spoke up, but he did not back down from the heated glare given to him by the much larger woman. "I thought you might need this, this is just more of the preparations for the wedding. " He passed her the scroll from within his robes. He bowed his head in farewell as he ignored the growing volume of the argument in front of the woman.

The way the cleric outright ignored the situation in front annoyed Amiri something fierce. Why was she the only one who had to deal with these idiots? Her temper had finally had enough when two men in front of her were about to come to blows. Before either could raise a fist, she grabbed them both by their breastplate and pulled them close, their feet no longer on the ground so they could look her in the eyes. "That's enough out of both of you! You making my head hurt worse then when I headbutted an iron golem." She tossed them both onto the ground and scuffed the polish on their armour.

The barbarian woman loomed over the men as she gave her answer to their ordeal. "Get me six of our best fighters, they'll lead the wedding party to the castle ready for a fight." She pointed toward them and their once immaculate armour. "You two, and the rest of your fancy boys can stand guard in the streets surrounding castle. Look nice for everybody watching, while the real fighters guard the Chief and his bride." Before either man tried to disagree, Amiri growled out threateningly, "Backtalk means bruises."

The two men could not leave the presence of their superior officer fast enough. Amiri growled and muttered underneath her breath, "Just a few more months, then someone else can deal with this shit." She turned her attention the scroll given to her, and immediately cursed, quite loudly judging by the fainting dainty woman nearby. The scroll was filled edge-to-edge with writing, it made the woman's head hurt as she tried to read it. Amiri could only recognize few of the words in the mad scrawl. Feast, soldiers and names of her companions.

So Amiri rolled it back up and marched her way through the servants as they darted across the castle square with orderly purpose. Throngs of them surrounded the far corner in the shade of the castle, in an alcove away from the more frantic hustle and bustle. The barbarian shoved her way through the throng, only to see the last person she expected to be lazing about with a god damned drink. "Why aren't you losing your shit about this you little imp?"

Jubilost laid back on a chair in the shade with a fruity looking drinking as he casually read reports that were casually dropped on the table beside him. He looked at her with a single raised eyebrow, "Unlike some oafish idiots," He stated with a rather pointed smirk, "I prepared for this exact outcome. I've had plans for a surprise wedding for the past two months, such as my position as minister." The gnome guffawed loudly. "Some people just can't control their biological urges." He sipped from his glass smugly.

"Always plotting aren't you-you damn rat." The insult had no bite, the two travellers shared an unseen smile. "I need you to read this parchment, whoever wrote it used way too many words." Amiri tossed the scroll.

The gnome skimmed the document in a single moment. "Did you already work out the military procession?"

"Yep."

"Then congratulations!" Jubilost cried out with fake glee. "You've completed everything his Highness wanted you to get done for wedding. Just don't maim anyone until the wedding feast."

Amiri nodded then chortled with pride. "Who needs to learn how to read when I can cleave a man in a single swing?" With that, she turned abruptly and left the gnome still holding the document.

He sighed. "I guess that leaves me to make sure everything else is going according to plan as well." The greatest author and traveller across Golarion, became the newest errand boy as he placed his drink down on the table and stuck to the wall to avoid the chaos of the castle square as he entered the keep. While the party preparations were getting closer to completion, it became more chaotic outside of the castle walls which were blissfully quiet as he made his way through the halls.

Outside of the treasury, he came office of the advisor in charge of such funds, and who knows how they will spend on such an important occasion as a royal wedding? Jubiliost entered the office where Kanerah was busy with a rather neat pile scrolls while her sister Kalikke stood at her side. The latter sifted through the scrolls of parchment with hesitation. "Are you sure we should be spending this much gold on the wedding?"

"A royal wedding needs a certain amount of extravagance." The head of the royal treasury did not even bother looking up from her paperwork. "If we spend too little, it could be seen as a sign that our land is not as profitable as some might think."

Jubilost decided to make his presence known as he slipped into the room. "You always did make job rather difficult. A few tall tales here and there, and other countries either thought we were richer than dragon or poorer than a street rat."

Kanerah paused, "I take it there is additional tasks required for the wedding?"

"A few things from what a skimmed, but seeing that you are nearly buried in receipts and invoices you probably already got everything done haven't you?"

The tiefling woman huffed indignantly, "You are not the only one making plans _minister_." The way she stated those words made it seem like she actually knew how today will end. As much as Jubilost would love to inform her of her grievous error- he'd rather watch her fail and then hold it over her head.

Without a word, he handed Kanerah the scroll, who barely glanced at it before she passed it to Kalikke. "Be a dear and make sure Harrim gets this. The last thing we need are marriage vows with a cloud of doom overhead."

Kalikke frowned. "He's been getting better sister."

"Run along now, I have work that needs to get done before the ceremony starts in 20 minutes."

Her blue eyes widen in surprise at hearing the time and Kalikke darted away from the office, immediately swerving around the gnome in her way. Soon she was back outside in front of the castle, and the tiefling was taken away by the transformation that had taken place over the afternoon.

All the streets that lead to the castle were cordoned off except one. The latter had a large wooden arch that covered the entire street, decorated from top to bottom in garlands with pink and white flowers. Benches lined the castle square as people filled the seats, many in a rushed state of formal dress.

A smaller arch, wide enough for three people, stood in front of everything, and every decoration practically lead to it. The craved wooden structure stood proudly before the gates of the castle, waiting for the inevitable ceremony. Despite his glum continence, Harrim seemed to be rather proud as he waited for the ceremony to begin. Pelliaos stood at his side, in the dressiest robes that probably cost a tenth of the kingdom's treasury.

"Pardon me, Harrim?" Kalikke tried her best to hide her apprehension. The moment she stepped near the wedding arch, she could feel hundreds of eyes following her every move. The dour dwarf was dressed in what was once a rather spiffy suit, now ragged and tattered with time barely holding together with patchwork. Harrim looked up at her, "Ah the finally piece before we begin the wedding march has arrived." He stated. "Have you brought the wedding rites?"

The tiefling quickly pulled out the scroll and handed it over. Harrim scanned the document with a furrowed brow. "This isn't the rights." Slight frustration coloured his tone, while Kalikke had almost fled the small rise of the wedding platform when the sound of the organ begun to play, signifying the approaching of the soon to be Queen. "They're on the back of the scroll, the last two paragraphs." She spoke hurriedly in a hushed tone before she slipped off the dais and joined her sister in the front row of the audience.

A hush fell over the audience when the fae woman herself entered the plaza. Harrim watched the nymph's face shift through different emotions, before settling in a stony smile. _Ruin is coming for us all,_ he thought to himself as Evindra escorted her cousin down the aisle with an unsettled look on her face as Nyrissa whispered in her ear.

Once the pair arrived at the at the dais, Evindra gave away the bride as if she was pulling a souffle out of an oven. Harrim stood between the bride and groom and he could feel the tension between the two clash above his head, or rather the intimidating presence of Nyrissa upon Pelliaos. When the organ stopped, Harrim read out the wedding rights with resigned reluctance. The flowery words were so positive and hopeful the dwarf fought against the urge to roll his eyes. The regent and councillor are such stickers for wording. After following the poorly written script, Harrim said the final question. "If anyone opposes this marriage-" He drawled. "Speak now or forever hold your peace."

"I object."

There was a dramatic gasp in the audience as everyone turned to stare at the fae who objected to her own marriage. In the front row, Jubilost watched all this unfold with rapid eyes and a small, smug smile behind his clasped hands. Harrim should've known that the gnome knew that this would happen.

As the officiator of the marriage, Harrim he expected Nyrissa opposition to be more vocal perhaps even a bit destructive. He did not expect her to stand in front of the king and bow deeply towards the crowd, a wing wrapped around her shoulder like a royal cloak. With such majesty that there was many people in the crowd who bowed in return.

"Citizens of the capital, I must apologize." Nyrissa stood from her bow, her elegant voice carried across the castle plaza, despite her soft and tender tone. "Today you have been hurried and rush for a grand occasion, which I truly must thank all of you who put in such time and effort to make this day special for the king and I."

The crowd took her cue and applauded for the servants, workers and organizers.

Nyrissa nodded approvingly at the crowd's reaction. "Despite my **current** opinion of this event-" Murmurs rumbled in the crowd as the fae continued to speak, "-I will not see all the hard work of today wasted. So instead-" The woman drawled out as she clapped her hands together. Glittering dust rose into the air above the crowd, rays of the setting sun sparkled with rainbows of colour across the across the castle square. "Enjoy yourselves at the king's expense!"

The crowd of citizens, servants and soldiers cheered uproariously, as the glitter fell to the ground, a few stray specks landed in Harrim's beard. He huffed in annoyance, but the glitter refused to budge. That is the end of his patience for today. He slapped the scroll into Pelliaos's chest, "This is your problem now." Harrim stated as he attempted to pluck away the ever-gathering amount of magical dust in his facial hair.

So Pelliaos watched from the door to his castle as his subjects feasted upon his foods, drank his fancy booze, and spent the time dancing the evening away while bards played upbeat jigs that would not be out of place for a harvest festival. In the center of it all stood Nyrissa, who did not bask in the people's adoration. No, she watched the citizens around her embraced the festivities, only to give the tiefling a hard stare when it appeared no one was looking.

Pelliaos was not looking forward to their conversation tonight.

The king entered their shared chambers with trepidation. He clutched the crumpled scroll that listed the various, duties, requests and speeches for everyone directly involved with the wedding. When Pelliaos wrote them up, he was so sure of himself that he had the entire wedding covered.

He felt rather unsure of his actions of the day as he saw Nyrissa sitting on the bed, her back towards him as she brushed her hair. The king could feel the tension between them coming to head with the lack of a party and bystanders between them.

When the door shut behind Pelliaos, Nyrissa spoke, "Honestly, I'm not mad-" She turned to face him with tears in her eyes. They did not seem like they were caused by sorrow. "-If anything, I've never been this happy since the day we truly met." She placed her brush. The way she smiled at him made his heart skip a beat.

Pelliaos strode across the room and the moment he sat down, He reached toward Nyrissa's hand only for her to lightly slap him. The tiefling immediately pulled back in surprise. "Don't think you are off the hook." Nyrissa scolded him with a rather stern look on her face. "You cannot make decisions for me." The fae woman then soothingly caressed the cheek she slapped, a loving tingle spread across Pelliaos's face.

"Not to mention your timing is absolutely terrible my Spring." Nyrissa said softly. "An entire day underneath the Old Sycamore does not put anyone in a happy mood." She sighed as she fell against Pelliaos's shoulder. "You thought the tunnels were bad with all the kobolds and mites? They've only gotten worse."

The king let the silence hang in the air before he asked the one question that he should have asked before this whole debacle. "Will you marry me?"

Nyrissa looked at him with a flat stare into his eyes. "Terrible time to ask." She said, only to immediately smile. "But, of course I will marry you. In six months." The fae chuckled at the king's rather flabbergasted disappointment.

"You already stressed your people out enough as it is. I've seen revolutions happen for less." His lover stated with a small smile jokingly, her past not forgotten but reconciled. "Once the people calmed down, we can have a proper wedding that we can plan-" Nyrissa then made she that Pelliaos was looking directly at her before she continued, "Together." She stated forcefully.

Certain that her message was received she pulled back the covers of bed. "Now I know that we both had a long day and I for one am exhausted." She fell to the bed with a loud puff before she lightly held the open in invitation. "Will you join me for slumber before I drift off cold and alone in this bed?"

Who was Pelliaos Sorrow to say no to his future Queen of the Stolen Lands?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N:
> 
> This should have been done weeks ago, but life, insecurities and lovely personal issues kept getting in the way. I liked having the story follow around the king’s decree that passed hands to all his advisors, but I had a lot of trouble with the ending. I want to write romance better, but it’s a concept that I think that I have idealized far too much because of the lack of it in my personal life. 
> 
> That being said, this is the end of this story, though maybe if I get bored might toss in an extra chapter or two of stuff I scrapped, “Fae Rules for the Material Plane” and “The Demon’s Wager”. Once I take a bit of a break from Pathfinder, I might come back to this with a sequel series with the most commonly done crossover of all, Harry Potter. 
> 
> Media and personal opinion on J.K Rowling aside, I still want to mess with that magical mess of a society.


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